


(My Kingdom For) Warmth

by MeAndMyself



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Lucifer burns cold, Possibly Stockholm Syndrome, The Sam/Lucifer Is Actually Pretty Vague, Vessel Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeAndMyself/pseuds/MeAndMyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When hypothermia victims die, it's supposed to be like going to sleep...</p><p>Or, at least, that's what Sam's always heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(My Kingdom For) Warmth

He doesn't understand. He's not sure he's ever understood.  
  
Anything. Ever.  
  
He used to think he was the brother with the answers. That he knew what he wanted, how to get it, or how to get the information on how to get it.  
  
He used to think he understood.  
  
How could he have thought that before this moment? How did he talk like he knew, like he _knew_ , where life came from, and why the earth spins?  
  
Because he didn't. Not with any certainty. And you can't ever be sure of something without being certain, the whole one hundred percent.  
  
And if he didn't know those big things were real, how could he trust the small things? How does he know this building is real? His shoes? The Impala? ... Him?  
  
What if he wasn't even real? What if he was a small cog in an elaborate experiment, a character in a simulation some twenty year old built in their basement? Something small and insignificant, and only alive because the settings on the simulator demanded every possibility happen at least once? That once the universe ended, it'd restart, and he'd go through this whole shebang again, slightly different?  
  
He breathes in, then out. When Sam breathes in again, he isn't himself any longer. Now he's Lucifer, and Sam is winding down, his mind spiralling into delirious hypotheticals, as a creeping chill latches into him. Sam's very _self_  shivers and his body doesn't so much as twitch.  
  
One of Sam's last stray thoughts before losing himself completely manages to be coherent. He thinks, _When hypothermia victims die, it's supposed to be like going to sleep..._  
  
The ice has been worked deep into him and he doesn't have the energy or strength to shiver or cringe. There's a soft, sly voice all around him, engulfing him, and it sounds like music.  
  
It says, _"Don't worry Sammy. I'll take care of you."_  
  
And despite their dubious source, the words make Sam feel safe.  
  
He can't remember why **.**

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Me, given the blessing to post by Myself. I, alas, cannot write, though does assure Me that it isn't awful. That's really debatable, though, to be honest.
> 
> Much apologies if it is /not/ up to expectation. The next ones will hopefully be better.


End file.
